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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112267">Wheel of the Year</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevorpalsword/pseuds/thevorpalsword'>thevorpalsword</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>U.S. Alternate Route [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Description of Injuries, Djinn Dreams, Gen, M/M, Mentions of canon character death, Sam loves his brother very much and just wants to see him happy, Sam watches his brother fall in love, Sam's POV, a year in the life, canon typical injury, djinn, general content warning for Dean's mental headspace, vague mentions of hunting and monsters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:06:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevorpalsword/pseuds/thevorpalsword</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has seen his brother go through many things, living out of each other's pockets the way they do. But this, this is a first.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>(A verbal epistolary novella as seen from an outsider. Or: Sam watches his brother fall in love.)<i></i></i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>U.S. Alternate Route [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wheel of the Year</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Holy shit, happy 2021 everyone! The last little bit of 2020 definitely got away from me, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this up. But here it is, and please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Mabon - September</b>
</p>
<p>Sam calls timeout somewhere in Tennessee. They took Cas’ advice about avoiding the interstates, but it meant that they ended up taking two days to cover what they would normally do in one. They’re on the west side of the Great Smoky Mountains, and too tired to bother finding a motel, so it’s them and Baby tonight. At least the weather is nice. The mountain air has got that first little autumnal bite to it, as the breeze steals softly over Sam through the open window.</p>
<p>It’s the quiet susurrus of Dean’s voice that pulls Sam gently to the surface of his sleep. He’s not awake exactly, more like in that place of only the barest sense of awareness. Sam remembers plenty of nights like this one. When he was younger Dean would read to him using a flashlight and a stolen library book. His earliest memories are of exactly this, drifting on the edge of sleep, his brother’s soothing voice filling the car. </p>
<p>“Hmm, no, I think we’ll probably head back to our friend Bobby’s house for a bit. Rest up some and restock.”</p>
<p>He wonders who Dean’s talking to. His brother’s voice is soft, but not just in a way that means he’s trying to be quiet. His voice is soft the way it is when he talks to scared victims, children, and people he loves.</p>
<p>“South Dakota. Honestly Cas, I think you two would get along like a house on fire. In another life, Bobby would have made one hell of a police commander.”</p>
<p>Ah, Sam thinks to himself as he sinks a little further down against the door, bending his knees more to accommodate the slide. He should have guessed it was Cas. </p>
<p>Sam drifts back off, not really listening to his brother’s conversation anymore. But just like on many nights past, he lets Dean’s voice soothe him into a restful sleep. It’s good to be home.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Samhain - October</strong>
</p>
<p>It always sneaks up on him, Halloween. Sam doesn’t know <em> how </em>, Halloween is a huge part of his life as a hunter. Samhain is one of the holy days for those that practice the craft after all, and while not all witches and practitioners are bad - Halloween almost always means fighting a magic user of some kind. He’s usually grateful for it. Focusing on a case means he can ignore the way his heart insists on pulling out all his memories of Jess.</p>
<p>There’s an itch under Sam’s skin to <em> do </em> something. But it’s pouring down rain outside so he can’t go for a run or a jog, or even a walk around the dilapidated block their motel sits on. He’s left sitting in one of the rickety chairs, staring out the window he pried open for lack of a better thing to do. The damn frame had been painted shut and it had taken some careful prying with his knife to get it to slide open even a couple of inches. The case that brought them to this tiny town was wrapped up this morning, leaving Sam to wallow in his thoughts. The last time he saw her alive and happy was on Halloween.</p>
<p>Dean stomps inside their motel room, shaking the rain from his hair and shoulders. He doesn’t make it more than three steps inside however, before stopping and taking in the state of his brother. Sam stiffens in his seat, unsure, feeling like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be somehow. </p>
<p>But Dean doesn’t say anything. Instead he takes the shopping bags in his hands directly to the kitchenette and unpacks the stuff he bought. Sam watches from the corner of his eye as Dean takes out several bags of Halloween candy (of course), a couple six packs of beer (naturally), and some extra toiletries that Sam had forgotten he was running low on. His brother pops most of the beer in the mini fridge, holding back two. He silently delivers one to Sam’s hand.</p>
<p>Dean gives him a brief, tight squeeze on the shoulder, and takes the empty chair next to him.</p>
<p>Sam forces down the lump in his throat.</p>
<p>It’s just shy of five years now, since Jessica was killed.</p>
<p>Jess’ death feels like a punishment, which bothers Sam so much. More as he gets older, on top of the grief he still feels. He wanted a life with her, separate from hunting and the supernatural. And the universe, or the powers that be or whatever, came down and passed a sentence before he even knew there was a trial. </p>
<p>It feels hideously unfair. And beyond all of that, Sam hates that her death was used this way. Hates that <em> she </em> was used this way. She was her own person, a glorious, smart, funny, kind human being with her own life and someone or something decided to reduce her to nothing but a punctuation on a sentence to <em> his </em> misdeeds. </p>
<p>Gods above, if she were alive she’d have <em> things </em> to say about that. </p>
<p>Sam loses track of time. He drinks the beer, listening to the sound of rain coming in through the window. Occasionally, a breeze sends the dingy curtain dancing.</p>
<p>“...thanks,” Sam says quietly. He feels the need to acknowledge Dean’s silent support out loud. Sam knows that Dean doesn’t need to hear it, knows that there are a great many things that never need to be said between them. But where he can, he wants Dean to know he’s grateful.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome, Sammy.”</p>
<p>“It’s been five years.”</p>
<p>“Mmmhmm.”</p>
<p>Sam doesn’t say anymore, glad that that it’s not needed. Dean’s phone rings, breaking the somber mood, but not in a bad way. Sam is already feeling lighter. </p>
<p>“Hey, Cas,” Dean intones, a smile in his voice. Sam finally looks away from the window to watch his brother slouch down in his chair a little, getting comfortable. </p>
<p>“Wait, what? Aluminum wrapped around paper towels? In a freezer?” Dean’s confused, but that pings something in the back of Sam’s brain. </p>
<p>“Like a freezer spell?” Sam asks, his mouth carrying on without his brain fully caught up yet. Dean looks over at Sam, but doesn’t waste any time pulling the phone from his ear and switching it to speaker. </p>
<p>“You’re on speaker, Cas, I think Sam has some information for you.”</p>
<p>“Hello, Sam,” Cas greets.</p>
<p>“Hey, Cas,” Sam returns, unable to fight the smile. “You were saying something about paper towels wrapped in aluminum?”</p>
<p>“Yes, the packets don’t appear to have anything in them except whatever the towels were wet with. There were four of them found in the bottom of a convenience store freezer downtown. No one has any idea what this is about, but the store owner thought that kids were using his freezers to transfer drugs so he called the police.”</p>
<p>“It sounds like a freezer spell, hang on let me get my journal,” Sam says. He gets up to grab the book in question. “It’s a hoodoo thing, if I’m remembering right. It’s for casting a kind of curse on someone.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I hope not. How would I even go about getting a curse dispelled? What if whoever is cursed doesn’t believe me?” Sam again fights a smile. The poor detective sounds genuinely concerned. </p>
<p>“There’s people you can see for hoodoo curses in your area, Cas,” Dean assures him. “I know a hoodoo practitioner that’s kinda close by to you; I can put you in contact. As for getting them to believe you, that might be harder.”</p>
<p>Sam flips through his journal and finally finds the appropriate page. </p>
<p>“Yea Cas, it’s definitely a freezer spell. You said there wasn’t anything in the packets? No paper, or objects, or anything like that?”</p>
<p>“No, just the paper towels.”</p>
<p>“Then you might not have anything to worry about. Freezer spells usually need something, a person’s name at the very least, to successfully take hold of a target. It sounds like these may be just kids messing around with some basic spell work.” </p>
<p>Cas is quiet a moment, clearly taking notes.</p>
<p>“Is there any way to be sure?”</p>
<p>“Does the store owner know the kids? You could talk to them.”</p>
<p>“...about witchcraft,” Cas deadpans on the other end of the line. Sam laughs, and Dean chuckles quietly. </p>
<p>“About hoodoo, but yea. I mean if they’re tossing spells into the bottom of freezers, it follows that they at least believe a little bit.” Sam says.</p>
<p>“Talk to Joshua and Balthazar. They’ve probably also got contacts and can put the local practitioner community on alert. That way, if someone starts complaining about having some really bad luck, they’ll know it might be something deeper,” Dean advises.</p>
<p>“Very well, this helps, thank you both.”</p>
<p>“No worries, man.” Dean replies.</p>
<p>“Is this information on the internet? I don’t want to keep bothering you with every little question I have.”</p>
<p>“Some of it is,” Sam explains. “But a lot of what’s on the internet is modern bullshit. No one sources anything and it’s easy to get mixed up on stuff, especially the different kinds of magic out there.”</p>
<p>Cas sighs, annoyed. “Yes, I was worried that might be the case.”</p>
<p>“Tell you what: I can send you a copy of my journal. I’ve got a ton of notes on magic and witchcraft. Dean does too.”</p>
<p>Dean perks up, “Yea, Cas, we’ve also got access to some real books on the subjects. We can send you some titles to start with, okay?”</p>
<p>“That would be an enormous relief. Do you think the local magic community here would talk to me? Answer some of my questions?”</p>
<p>“I have no idea,” Dean replies. “Honestly, Cas, anyone with anything to do with the supernatural kinda tends to avoid the cops.”</p>
<p>“I figured.”</p>
<p>“But ask anyways. Joshua and Balthazar both know you’re on the up and up; they might be able to convince a couple people to talk to you,” Sam points out.</p>
<p>“Hmmm. I will speak with Joshua, perhaps at the very least they’d also be willing to recommend some books for me.”</p>
<p>Dean laughs. “That’s the spirit.”</p>
<p>“Thank you both. I need to go and finish writing my report. I’ll call again later about the books.”</p>
<p>“No problem, Cas. Oh, Happy Halloween!” Dean says, still chuckling.</p>
<p>“Yes, Happy Samhain to you both.”</p>
<p>The detective hangs up and Sam sets his journal on the table. Dean taps his phone on his leg a couple of times, a smile still edging around his mouth. Sam closes his journal and picks his beer back up.</p>
<p>“Wanna see if there’s any horror movie marathons on the TV?” Dean asks. </p>
<p>“Yea, that sounds great.”</p>
<p>They settle on their creaky beds with the beer and candy, and turn on the ancient TV in the corner. It takes all of two channel clicks before Dean finds some hilariously bad slasher flick that’s an easy choice for both of them. </p>
<p>A breeze sneaks into the room from the open window, and the old, faded curtain waves in  like the edge of a woman’s dress. The rain continues on but the wind dies down, and the curtain falls still.</p>
<p>
  <b>Yule - December</b>
</p>
<p>“Look all I’m saying is wendigos aren’t common in the southeast at all, why would Cas need information on them?” Sam asks, a little exasperated with his brother. They are hunched over the crowded desk in Bobby’s living room, books piled between them as they sort through references. </p>
<p>“I get that Sam, really, but dude, we ran into a fucking Tibetan thought form in the back ass end of nowhere Missouri!”</p>
<p>“That was because some kids got creative with some stuff they found on the internet, Dean, that’s completely different.”</p>
<p>“Both of you shut up,” Bobby grouses. “Put a small section in there about wendigos, and how to kill them and include a note that says they’re more common in the Rockies. Jeeze. And leave me some room ‘cause I got a couple paragraphs that need to be added about mountain trolls.”</p>
<p>“Mountain trolls?” Sam asks, stunned.</p>
<p>“Yea, you boys haven’t run into any but they’re real common along the Appalachian trail, which is a lot closer to Cas than the fucking Rockies, now gimme.”</p>
<p>Dean grins, delighted as he slides the half full journal across the desktop to Bobby’s waiting hands. Sam shakes his head and tries to juggle the two reference bestiaries (one on European monsters and myths, another from the old Persian Empire, helpfully translated into English) and his own journal on the tiny amount of space he’s been allotted at this desk. </p>
<p>Dean’s not doing much better, he’s got Bobby’s old ratty copy of <em> Malleus Maleficarum </em> (that is one of Dean’s favorites, Sam knows, because Bobby has annotated the entire thing with snarky asides about how everything in it is bullshit. It’s one of Sam’s favorites too.); two different copies of the Dead Sea Scrolls (one in English, one in Hebrew) and his journal. </p>
<p>It started off pretty simple. Sam and Dean promised to send Cas copies of their journal notes on hoodoo and other witchcraft. Then it escalated. </p>
<p>At first, they just made some photocopies of the relevant pages from their journals and were going to staple it together and mail it off. But when Sam was reviewing the compiled materials, he instantly noticed there were actual discrepancies between some of the things they each had. Dean had extensive information on some hoodoo protection spells that directly contradicted some things Sam had learned about hoodoo curses - which lead the two of them arguing about it. </p>
<p>And then Dean called his contact and Sam called Bobby and after that there were a bunch of back and forth emails wherein Bobby ended up getting the practitioner's number off Dean. From what Sam and Dean can tell Bobby has a new friend to bitch about spell ingredients with.</p>
<p>And here they are, weeks later. They crashed with Bobby while the Christmas season inches by outside in the snow drifts, digging into the lore of the supernatural in a way they’ve never done before. Bobby has taken to the project with a furor that surprises both brothers, but their surrogate father is clearly passionate about this so they’ve let him run with it. </p>
<p>At the end of November, once the brothers had finished putting down a nest of vamps in Missoula, Dean had returned to the motel room, sheepish but pleased. The next morning, Sam woke up surprised to see Dean already up and working at the rickety motel table, a brand new, beautifully crafted journal spread in front of him. It was designed similar to John’s with pages that could be added or taken away. Dean already was transcribing pages and pages of notes on common monsters, and tips on ghost hunts. </p>
<p>Sam was tempted at the time, but he didn’t say anything. And even if he did say something, Sam’s honestly not sure <em> what </em> he would say. </p>
<p>Dean rises from the crowded desk and stretches. He props his books up on top of a nearby pile of them and heads for the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Bring me a beer on your way back will ya?” Bobby asks his retreating back.</p>
<p>Dean waves his consent, disappearing around the corner. A minute later there is the distinct clatter of pot and pans that signals Dean’s getting dinner started. Sam realizes how hungry he is the second that he hears something hit a hot pan with a sizzle. The smell of garlic and onions fills the air.</p>
<p>Sam flips through the rest of his reference not finding what he’s looking for. He ditches the Persian bestiary and reaches for another from India. He needs to refresh his memory on Rakshasas before adding them to Cas’ journal; though he gives a little shudder when remembering that particular hunt. </p>
<p>Dean appears back in the room, phone awkwardly cradled between his ear and his shoulder, the smart phone making the angle almost impossible. But he dutifully hands Bobby his beer, and gives Sam one of his green juices from the fridge.</p>
<p>“Probably for a few more days, I need to put in some work on Baby while we’re here,” Dean remarks to the person on the phone. Sam has gotten used to the common sight of Dean either phone in hand or phone cradled between his ear and shoulder over the past few weeks. He’s been spending more and more time chatting with Cas. So much so that these days, Sam just assumes that whoever on the other side is probably Cas.</p>
<p>“What’s Cas doing for Christmas?” Sam asks, curious as he flips back and forth between a couple of pages, drinking half his juice in one go.</p>
<p>“He’s going to hang out with Balthazar and Joshua at the soup kitchen, apparently,” Dean answers easily. He returns to speaking to his phone. “Aren’t you going to see family?”</p>
<p>Sam glances up, just in time to see Dean’s face fall a little. </p>
<p>“Oh. Dude, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” Dean cuts himself off, listening. His countenance flashes to anger. “Well fuck them then. I’d invite you to South Dakota but that’s a hell of a drive.” Dean waves at Sam the universal signal for ‘later’; and goes back to the kitchen, still talking to Cas about the drive and then espousing on the dangers of flying.</p>
<p>Sam feels Bobby staring at him and obligingly looks up. </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Dean gonna <em> ask </em> before inviting some random cop to my home?”</p>
<p>Sam opens his mouth to answer, but he’s surprised and nothing actually comes out. He belatedly realizes that yea, it’s actually a little rude to just invite a stranger, a <em> police officer </em>, to Bobby’s house. Especially considering how many bodies and other things are buried out under the junked cars.</p>
<p>“Uh,” Sam replies intelligently. His mind races, trying to put together words to describe why it doesn’t feel weird to invite Cas into their safe spaces. Bobby’s just feels like home for both brothers in a way that equates them thinking of the place as <em> theirs </em> too in a very emotionally driven way.</p>
<p>Because it <em> is </em> . Sam knows intellectually that it’s not, this isn’t <em> theirs </em>. But as Sam looks around at the spindly Christmas tree that he and Dean dragged down out of Bobby’s attic three days ago and decorated with dollar store ornaments, or the muted TV where Dean put on the Christmas parade and then acted like it was already on that channel, no big deal. And then over to where Sam draped the leftover Christmas lights across Bobby’s mantle in between the weird collection of spell ingredients, two animal skulls, books and weapons - Sam can’t help but feel...home.</p>
<p>He looks helplessly at his surrogate father, and Bobby seems to be able to read most of what Sam’s unable to say aloud in his face. The older hunter softens, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling with fondness.</p>
<p>“You’re both idjits.”</p>
<p>“Yea,” Sam concedes, “We know.”</p>
<p>“I guess it’d be nice to meet the boy y’all are putting all this work into for.”</p>
<p>“Cas is good people,” Sam assures Bobby. </p>
<p>“I’m sure he is,” Bobby replies, idly running a finger over a page in the journal. Sam doesn’t know when it happened, but Bobby is actually looking at a page full of Dean’s notes. His brother had reigned in his somewhat sloppy handwriting for the entirety of the journal, leaving pages and pages of neat writing.</p>
<p>Bobby flips forward to the pages he was working on, and picks his pen up. Sam notices for the first time that even Bobby has neatened up his handwriting too. Less scrawl, more cursive. </p>
<p>“You boys only try this hard for people you care about,” Bobby remarks, “And that’s good enough for me. If this Cas ever needs a spot to crash, you can tell him to come see me.”</p>
<p>Sam’s mouth is dry, and he suddenly has to fight back the stinging behind his eyes. He doesn't know why he’s overwhelmed, but it’s a rush that feels equal parts joyful and heartbreakingly comforted. </p>
<p>“Thanks, Bobby.” Sam whispers, eyes on the page in front of him. Bobby just rests a work rough hand briefly on the back of Sam’s neck, and then goes back to his writing. </p>
<p>Dean bustles in not three minutes later, juggling three bowls of something delicious smelling. He also has an extra beer in the crook of one arm, and his phone still cradled between his shoulder and ear.</p>
<p>“I gotta go Cas, gotta feed the ravenous hordes -”</p>
<p>“Nah, just put the boy on speaker phone, it’s about time I got to meet ‘im.” Bobby interrupts, carefully closing the journal and putting it well outside the potential spill radius. The books get stashed under his chair. Bobby takes a bowl from Dean, while Sam does the same. Dean looks momentarily flustered, but he fights off a grin while plunking the phone in the middle of the desk.</p>
<p>“You’re on speaker, Cas. Bobby, meet Castiel Novak, detective, newbie hunter, and aspiring beekeeper. Cas, this is Bobby.”</p>
<p>"It is nice to finally have the chance to speak with you Mr. Singer,” Cas says formally. Sam thinks he can pick up a thread of nervousness and finds it a little odd, right up until he sees his brother’s face. Dean is looking at Bobby with a look of apprehension and hopeful terror. It bewilders Sam; but then again, he guesses that neither of them have ever really had a chance to introduce a potential partner to Bobby. Even if it’s by phone, Sam realizes he’s literally watching his brother, for the first time ever, introduce their surrogate father to someone he <em> likes </em>.</p>
<p>“Jeeze, boy, just call me Bobby. Dean mentioned that you were interested in some reference books? I got some duplicate copies of a few things I could part with - you want ‘em?”</p>
<p>Cas gives a little pause, but then rushes to reply. “I would love that, yes. I find myself in desperate need of information that has already been verified. There’s so much to be found on the internet of course, but it’s hard finding out what is true and what’s not.”</p>
<p>“Yea, it’ll get easier though. Once you get a thorough grounding, you’ll get better at spotting what’s bullshit and what’s based on the truth. I know these boys have already sent you some titles of texts you can find online, but I’ll put together another list for ya and include it; you know anyone with JSTOR access?”</p>
<p>The two continue on discussing scholarly journals, their conversation easy and comfortable. Dean looks on, a fond smile on his face while he eats. Sam picks up his fork and starts in on his own meal, unable to keep a happy grin from his own face.</p>
<p>
  <b>Imbolc - February</b>
</p>
<p>Sam tries to swim to the surface of consciousness. But the drag of hurt, pain, and exhaustion pulls him back down. He can just make out the sound of Dean’s voice, tinged with his brother’s own hurts and tiredness, but not panicked or angry. That’s good - if Dean’s speaking, then he’s got enough of a handle on things. </p>
<p>Distantly, he hears the slam of Baby’s door and the gruff rumble of Bobby. </p>
<p>That’s fine then. He’s safe. Dean, Baby, and Bobby have got him. He doesn’t need anything else.</p>
<p>He sleeps.</p>
<p>The next time he comes too, he can barely crack open his swollen eyes to take in Bobby’s living room. He’s on the ratty couch against the back wall and his feet hanging off the armrest, while he’s propped up against the other. He’s shirtless and pant-less under the blanket that’s covering him, and he can feel dry bandages around his torso and left leg. His hands ache, his head is beating like a drum, and he can feel the pull of stitches on his scalp just above his hairline.</p>
<p>“Ugh,” is all he can muster to say. He feels like roadkill. He suddenly desperately needs to pee, to drink at least a gallon of water, and a shower: in that order, stat.</p>
<p>Bobby appears like a goddamn miracle to wordlessly help Sam up and to the bathroom to take care of the first thing on his to do list. It’s embarrassing as hell, but at the same time he’s in just enough pain that Sam’s mostly just grateful for the help. It just means he can fall back to horizontal on the couch faster. </p>
<p>“Dean?” Sam croaks as Bobby, with great care, lowers Sam to the couch and yanks the blanket back up around him. The house is always freezing, and the February snows certainly don’t make it easy for the little clapboard house to retain heat.</p>
<p>“He’s upstairs. We got you patched up and he <em> literally </em> passed out in the hallway. The idiot was hiding his own hurts like a fucking moron. I got <em> him </em> patched up too. He hasn’t woken up yet, but he’ll probably come around in an hour or so.”</p>
<p>“He drove us here from Hastings, while bleeding to death?” Sam rasps, angry. He can’t remember exactly how the last few minutes of the hunt went. He just remembers getting thrown down part of the sewer system after the shapeshifter they’d been tracking slashed him bad with an incredibly sharp knife.</p>
<p>“He wasn’t bleeding to death,” Bobby replies, exasperated. But he took a dumb risk to get the upper hand on the shapeshifter and he carried the price for it. He’s got a stab wound here,” Bobby gestures to the meat of his own shoulder, below the clavicle. “It’s gonna take some time to heal up. He lost a lot of blood which is why he passed out. I got some water in him, and into bed.”</p>
<p>Sam sighs in relief. “Okay, okay. And the shapeshifter is dead?”</p>
<p>“Yup. Dean had to leave the body. But it’s dead.”</p>
<p>“We were deep in the sewers, I don’t think it’ll be found.”</p>
<p>“Mmm, Dean said the same,” Bobby replies almost absent-minded. He’s not looking at Sam, instead he’s looking at his phone which is in his hand. Sam’s about to ask why when it lights up, ringing. He hands the phone over to Sam who takes it with graceless hands.</p>
<p>“Now, answer Cas before the idiot puts himself on a plane here.”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” Sam asks, but Bobby is already up and moving away from the couch towards the kitchen. Sam unlocks the phone and with somewhat bewildered trepidation asks, “Hello?”</p>
<p>“Sam?” Cas’ voice is relieved, worried and tense all at once.</p>
<p>“Hey, Cas, um, I’m sorry have you been trying to reach Dean?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been trying to reach any of you. Bobby stopped answering after the fourth time.”</p>
<p>“You called Bobby four times?”</p>
<p>There’s a sheepish pause on the other end of the phone. “I may have been googling things about your’s and Dean’s injuries and kept having questions.”</p>
<p>“Oh man Cas, never look at stuff on WebMD, you’ll be convinced you’re dying.”</p>
<p>“Yes well, I believe I annoyed Bobby enough that he just stopped answering. But I’m glad you have, are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Yea, banged up pretty bad this time. Definitely a concussion, and some cuts and stuff. But I’ll heal.”</p>
<p>“What about Dean? Bobby wouldn’t tell me much and I...I mean, he...he didn’t sound good on the phone earlier.”</p>
<p>“Who? Dean?”</p>
<p>“Yes, he called me while driving to South Dakota. He said he needed help staying awake and asked if I could just talk to him.”</p>
<p>“Ah, and you noticed something was wrong?”</p>
<p>“Pretty immediately. He wouldn’t tell me though. Sam, your brother is extremely stubborn.”</p>
<p>Sam can’t help it, he starts to laugh helplessly at Cas’ serious pronouncement of a central tenet of Dean’s personality. It hurts to laugh, hurts so bad. But it also feels good.</p>
<p>“Dude, Dean’s like the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”</p>
<p>“I have reached the same conclusion. Is he alright?”</p>
<p>“Yea, Cas, he’s going to be okay. He’s upstairs sleeping right now. He lost a lot of blood, apparently.”</p>
<p>“Has he gotten sufficient water then? He’ll need to drink a lot of fluid to replenish the lost volume, you should give him gatorade or pedialyte to help replace the electrolytes and nutrients too-”</p>
<p>“Tell that idjit that we know how to do basic first aid, damnit!” Bobby shouts gruffly at Sam, while he goes by a tray in his hands with exactly what Cas was recommending: two big bottles of gatorade, some water, painkillers and bandages.</p>
<p>“And you best be ready when I get back because it’s your turn next,” Bobby finishes with a glare as he goes stomping towards the stairs. </p>
<p>“We’ve got it covered, Cas, I promise.” Sas assures their friend. Cas sighs on the other end of the line.</p>
<p>“I should have guessed, this is normal for you all, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Sam shrugs even though Cas can’t see him. </p>
<p>“I suppose. But normal doesn’t mean that we don’t appreciate you worrying about us though. And we do, I mean. Appreciate it.”</p>
<p>“...I’ll admit,” Cas replies quietly. “I got scared. Dean was pretty composed for most of our conversation. But there was clearly something wrong, I was so worried. And then, Dean got...well he started sounding like he was drunk. And I knew it was serious. That it was bad, whatever it was.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Cas. We don’t want...we don’t mean to make you worry.”</p>
<p>“I know, Sam,” Cas replies, kind. “It’s okay. I’d rather...I always rather you call. I don’t want either of you to feel like he can’t call me, if you need help. I can help, I want too.”</p>
<p>“You did help, Cas. You helped get us to Bobby’s to help, that’s important.”</p>
<p>Cas coughs a little, clearly embarrassed. “Thank you. Just. Tell Dean to call me? When he wakes up? I’ll keep checking on you both of course, please know that I’ll be hounding both your phones and Bobby’s for the next couple of days, but I mean, could you or him-”</p>
<p>“I’ll let you know when he’s awake,” Sam promises. “I’ll text you, or just call you, something.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, that would be...that would be a huge relief.”</p>
<p>“Cross my heart,” Sam teases, trying to lighten the somber mood.</p>
<p>“What was it you were hunting?” Cas asks.</p>
<p>“Dean didn’t mention it?”</p>
<p>“Um, no. He actually asked me to talk about anything except the supernatural.”</p>
<p>“Jeeze, what did you two talk about then?”</p>
<p>“Well, beekeeping for a bit.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? My brother talked about beekeeping?”</p>
<p>“I mostly talked about beekeeping. But then we switched to gardening, and how to garden with only native plants. Dean has seen places where kudzu has swallowed entire houses, did you know?”</p>
<p>Sam holds the phone close, while sliding down on the couch a little. Trying to find a comfortable position, that didn’t pull at his bandages or aggravate his knee.</p>
<p>“I didn’t, but he’s been all over the country, multiple times so it doesn’t surprise me.”</p>
<p>“Quite, that’s what we talked about next, actually, being on the road…”</p>
<p>Cas carries on, speaking at length about the wide open spaces of the country, the feeling of being in motion and all that that feeling can soothe, what it’s like coming around the bend to see somewhere safe at the end of the journey. They talk about the colleges they went to. Sam finds himself telling Cas about Jess, about the person she was, more than her death. Cas reciprocates, telling Sam about growing up in a foster home, with foster parents that barely tolerated him, and then grew to loathe him when he came out as gay.</p>
<p>Bobby reappears, with new supplies and hands Sam a bottle of gatorade. He nods his head to the side, and Sam looks up to see his big brother. Dean looks pale and shakes slightly, leaning against the doorway. He’s wearing a flannel that’s been left open down the chest and Sam can clearly see a fresh bandage with plenty of padding strapped to his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Heya, Sammy.” His brother greets, with a wan smile. “Who ya talkin’ to?”</p>
<p>“Cas,” Sam replies. He returns to the detective in question. “Cas? Dean’s up, I’m going to hand you over okay?”</p>
<p>“He’s awake?” Cas asks, every syllable relieved. </p>
<p>“Yup, here ya go.” Sam holds out the phone. Dean looks at it. He has to push off the door frame to get his forward momentum going. Sam can instantly see that he’s done something to his left foot or ankle because he staggers when he tries to put weight on it. Dean reaches out, but he doesn’t close the last couple of inches to the phone, and there’s something at war on his brother’s face. </p>
<p>He’s scared, Sam realizes with a flash. Just like Sam experienced earlier, he’s scared of hurting Cas. Scared of worrying him. Scared of leaving him behind if the worst happens; and the worst happening is <em> always </em> a chance on a job.</p>
<p>“Dean?” Cas’ tinny voice sounds distant coming from the phone. </p>
<p>“Dean.” Sam also says, firmly, not as a question. His brother looks up at him, his conflict clear in his eyes. “It’s his choice, man.”</p>
<p>Sam knows he doesn’t have to say anything more. He knows Dean will understand all that he’s trying to say - every layer of the argument is covered by that one statement. Sam’s not overjoyed at the prospect of hurting Cas or causing him worry, but this is the truth of the matter. It’s Cas’ choice. </p>
<p>Dean sighs, nods his head at Sam, then reaches out and takes the phone. </p>
<p>“Hey buddy,” Dean greets, and for once there’s not an ounce of artifice, or glibness. Dean’s not ‘on’ when he speaks into the phone. He allows himself his reality, he answers the phone and is tired, is hurting, is frightened. He lets it all carry in his voice.</p>
<p>Sam has to look away. It has been an incredibly long time since he’s seen his brother be that vulnerable to someone not himself, or Bobby. </p>
<p>“Yea, I’m going to be okay. It’s gonna take a few weeks though, the shapeshifter got me good with a knife.” Dean shuffles over and carefully eases himself into the armchair. Bobby starts to unwrap the bandages around Sam’s knee. It’s painfully swollen, he wrenched it awful when he’d tried to land in some semblance of order at the bottom of the sewer. Looks like they’ll be crashing with Bobby again for a bit. </p>
<p>The older man in question, re-wraps his knee and packs some ice packs around the limb; before patting him lightly on the shoulder. </p>
<p>“We’ll get you into a shower later tonight, I know you’re probably dying for one.”</p>
<p>“Got a stool I can take in there with me?”</p>
<p>“Of course I do, what do you take me for? An amateur?”</p>
<p>Sam chuckles. “No sir, never.”</p>
<p>Bobby gets up from beside the couch and presses a bottle of water into Sam’s hands before doing the same to Dean. Dean struggles a moment, he’s clearly reluctant to move his left hand or arm due to the wound on that shoulder but he needs his right to hold the phone.</p>
<p>“Just put him on speaker, so we can all talk to him.” Bobby says.</p>
<p>Dean does so, resting the phone on his thigh while he chugs down the bottle of water. Cas speaks about a strange burglary case he’d been assigned involving people’s potted plants disappearing from their porches. </p>
<p>Sam drifts on the couch, letting the cold ice packs soothe away some of the pain in his knee. He obligingly drinks another half of a gatorade before Bobby seems satisfied. Cas can tell a good yarn. He gets into it, laying out the facts of the case, and detailing a couple of the interviews he conducted. Things get weird when some of the missing plants start mysteriously <em> reappearing </em> on people’s porches. </p>
<p>The conclusion is a sweet and funny one, turns out some soft-hearted, green-thumbed neighbor was ‘borrowing’ plants that were clearly not doing well, and nursing them back to health before returning them to their owners. Sam finds himself laughing along with the rest of his little family as Cas details the apology letter that the culprit had mailed out - including detailed instructions on how to go about taking care of the different plants. The younger Winchester has always appreciated a happy ending.</p>
<p>
  <b>Ostara - March</b>
</p>
<p>Sam’s not back to full fighting fit just yet - at least, not enough to manage his full runs yet. But he’s been power walking around the motels they crash at whenever he can, pushing himself to either go a little further or a little faster each day. </p>
<p>Dean’s also nearly healed. He’s still trying to regain his full range of motion, though. Cas and Sam have been working jointly to convince Dean to give yoga a serious attempt. Sam’s pretty sure Dean’s inches away from giving in just to get them to stop. He’s fairly certain Dean’ll never be the type to drop in on a class, or look up new positions like Cas and him, but they’re trying to get Dean to see the benefits of maintaining basic flexibility. </p>
<p>March in Arkansas is warm and not too humid. Great weather for being outdoors. The hunt that brought them here was a simple one: just a somewhat restless ghost. They hadn’t even needed to salt and burn the body; the spirit was a relatively new one and still quite coherent. Between the two brothers, they had been able to talk him into passing on.</p>
<p>Sam switches his music off and pulls his headphones out as he reaches the motel door. Key in the lock, he’s already wondering if he can convince Dean to go with him to a cool sandwich and salad place he passed on his walk, somewhere that could satisfy both of them. The taller Winchester pushes the door open after unlocking it, and-</p>
<p>Stops abruptly. </p>
<p>Sam’s a hunter, he’s been trained to take in as many details of a scene as quickly as possible and right now that’s a fucking curse. Because his brother is laying on his bed, on top of the covers, in nothing but his boxers and he’s got his hand down them and there’s absolutely zero question about what he’s doing at the moment.</p>
<p>“Shit!” Sam exclaims, bounces out of the room like the floor is lava and slams the door shut in his own face. He wrenches the keys free and very quickly power walks his ass away.</p>
<p>This isn’t surprising. Dean and Sam have both walked in on each other in exactly that compromising position more times than they’d ever admit to anyone. Downsides of traveling so much together. </p>
<p>No, no. The surprising part is the phone that had been caught between Dean’s ear and his shoulder, and the absolutely bright red, mortified look on his face.</p>
<p>Sam pointedly doesn’t think about what he saw. Pointedly doesn’t even follow the train of thought about the phone call. He knows who it was, and he’s not going to think about it. Instead, Sam goes and finds the healthy sandwich and salad place that he’d passed, and buys two of their vegan power bowl salads with as much avocado, beets and arugula as will fit in the containers. He adds extra sunflower seeds; and picks the lowest calorie dressing they have. </p>
<p>He returns about 40 minutes later and Dean’s cleaned up, in clothes, but still blushing. Sam drops his salad in front of him without a word, turns on the TV, finds some documentary on the History channel about serial killers and digs into his own dinner. Dean eats his entire salad without a word of complaint.</p>
<p>
  <b>Beltane - May</b>
</p>
<p>Sam finds himself extremely grateful right now that djinn blood is blue. Blue blood means that when he’s wandering the aisles of a Walgreens at 2 in the morning covered in the stuff he just looks like the victim of a prank gone wrong (or right, depending on your outlook) rather than a homicidal maniac. </p>
<p>He does feel bad for whoever is going to have to clean the basket he’s using once he’s done though. He’s gotten the blue blood everywhere. He tries to make sure not to leave sticky fingerprints on the merchandise or shelves. He grabs some large bottles of gatorade, two packages of bandages, sterile padding, rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, a huge bottle of multivitamins, and two boxes of the cheapest protein bars. That’s enough to get started.</p>
<p>The djinn had been a bastard to find. Dean and Sam had gotten almost exactly nowhere in their investigation. Even with Charlie and Cas helping from afar with looking into missing persons in the area. Cas requested case files that the local PD had been highly reluctant to hand over to a couple of unknown FBI agents. Charlie took the time to hack NCIC to check if the djinn was a recent addition to the city or if there was a trail that could hint at where he liked to hole up.</p>
<p>But the information was still sparse; and then, while they were separated interviewing different witnesses. Dean disappeared into thin air.</p>
<p>It took three days to find him. </p>
<p>Sam pulls out his cell phone, and checks the aisles. There’s no one about, and his only company is a drowsy cashier watching Netflix on his tablet at the front. Sam dials a familiar number.</p>
<p>“Do you have him?”</p>
<p>Cas answers after just one ring.</p>
<p>“Yea, I found him, he’s alive.”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ. Okay. Okay.” Sam can hear that Cas is trying to soothe himself more than anyone else. “Is he alright? What kind of shape is he in?”</p>
<p>“Not great shape overall, he’s severely dehydrated and starving. But he’ll bounce back fast once we get him somewhere where he can sleep and rest. We’re too far from Bobby’s right now, so we’re going to camp out in a motel room for a few days.”</p>
<p>“Where is he? Can I talk to him?”</p>
<p>Sam props the phone between his shoulder and neck, wincing as he does. But he needs his hand free to grab some ibuprofen, and then some anti-nausea meds from the shelf. He then doubles back down another aisle and gets the special, heavy duty lava soap. Sam had almost forgotten that getting this blood off of him takes more grit than lather. His neck twinges in protest at the sharp angle and he grabs his phone before it falls.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Cas. He’s passed out in the back of Baby right now. He probably won’t be coherent for a couple of days.”</p>
<p>“Is the dehydration that bad?”</p>
<p>“No, no. He’ll shake that off once we get him fluids. It’s...the djinn had him for several days, Cas. Dean’s gonna be pretty disoriented for a bit while the dream world fades. He’s going to have to take some time to sort out what’s real and what was the hallucination. It’s…” Sam thinks back to their previous experiences with other djinns. “It’s hard to parse for the first few hours.”</p>
<p>“Oh. That’s...I’m sorry. I’ll...text Dean to let him know he can call me when he’s ready. Will that be alright?”</p>
<p>Sam’s quiet for a moment, his grip on the basket makes the plastic creak a little. He wants to tell Cas yes. He wants to tell Cas that he should absolutely do that, and to call Dean maybe day after tomorrow so his brother will have something to focus on, to look forward too. </p>
<p>But…</p>
<p>When Sam had cut Dean down from the rig, Dean had been muttering in his dream sleep. Muttering Cas’ name. And when Sam had brought Dean out of it, it broke his heart to watch his older brother cry for the dream life that was lost. A dream life that apparently...Dean had been sharing with <em> Cas </em>. </p>
<p>“Sam?”</p>
<p>“Sorry, dude. I got distracted,” Sam answers on autopilot. “Trying to get all the supplies I need.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Of course, I’m sorry I’m interrupting you. Please, I’ll call you back later - you’re on west coast time right? Jesus, it’s 2am where you are then.” Cas rambles, and Sam belatedly realizes that if it's 2am where he is, then it's 5am where Cas is. The detective had probably waited all night for Sam to call.</p>
<p>“No, it’s okay, man. Look I’ll text you when we’re settled and check on the status of Dean’s phone. I’m not even sure it’s working, I found it but it’s pretty battered.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Cas says, agreeably. But Sam can tell there’s an edge of something - the niggling worry still hasn’t gone away. Sam knows from experience that it probably won’t until Cas can talk to Dean himself.</p>
<p>“He’s gonna be okay, Cas. I promise.” Sam soothes. </p>
<p>“Yes, yes, he will. Call me back when you can, okay?”</p>
<p>“I will. Bye, Cas.”</p>
<p>“Bye, Sam. Stay safe.”</p>
<p>“You too.”</p>
<p>Cas hangs up and Sam drops his phone into his jacket pocket. He shuffles up to the counter and puts his basket down, smiling apologetically at the teenage cashier who doesn’t even blink at Sam’s blue covered clothing. The kid just slides his iPad over on the counter a little and begins to ring up Sam’s purchases. </p>
<p>Sam lets his eyes drift, while that happens. He’s tired. He’s been going non-stop trying to find his brother. Charlie had threatened to come down to Tempe herself. Even Cas had offered, and Sam could tell it was a serious offer. Bobby was actually already on the road when Sam texted him earlier that he’d found Dean. Sam fishes out his wallet as carefully as he can, (to no avail, he’s going to have to get another new one) and pulls out one of the fake credit cards to pay when the products behind the cashier catches his attention. It’s a standard array of cigarettes, vape cartridges, chewing tobacco, and cheap electronics. </p>
<p>“Hey, could I get a pair of those too?”</p>
<p>The teen just grabs one off the rack behind him and rings it in as well. Sam pays for the lot and hurries out to Baby with the supplies in hand. Dean is still passed out in the backseat, one of their heavy wool blankets draped over him. Tempe is chilly in the evenings, even in May, and Dean needs all the help he can get to stay warm. His brother stirs just a little when Sam closes the door.</p>
<p>“Cas?” Dean rasps.</p>
<p>“No, Dean, it’s just me.”</p>
<p>“Sammy. Shouldn’t you be in California? Where’s Jess?”</p>
<p>Sam feels a tight ball of emotion catch in his throat. It makes his heart hurt to know that even in the Dean’s perfect dream world, his brain still made sure that Sam was safe and happy somewhere.</p>
<p>“I came to help look after you,” Sam replies, sticking with something neutral and true, no matter what the circumstances are.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Dean makes an agreeable noise. “That’s nice, man, you didn’t have to.”</p>
<p>“‘Course I did, you’re my brother.” Sam starts up Baby and pulls out of the parking lot.</p>
<p>“Yea, s’good to see you Sammy. But where’s Cas?”</p>
<p>“He’s just waiting on us to get back,” Sam replies, which is still the truth. Cas has already asked them both a few times if they’re ever gonna be back in his area. So far their hunts have had them up and down the Rockies and a bit on the Gulf Coast. But Sam wouldn’t mind at all if Dean wanted to make a trip out of going back to see Cas.</p>
<p>“M’kay. M’tired, Sammy.”</p>
<p>“Go back to sleep, Dean. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”</p>
<p>“Yea…” Dean whispers and drops back off. Sam drives on.</p>
<p>
  <b>Litha - June</b>
</p>
<p>Sam comes in through the motel door, leaving the riot of color and heat outside in the June sunshine, grateful for the clunky A/C puttering away under the window. He sees Dean on the other side of the room, in the middle of tossing his bathroom kit in his open duffle, phone in hand held against his ear.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Cas, Sam’s back. I’ll call you later, yea?”</p>
<p>His brother nods and hangs up, tucking the phone away. It’s been weird for Sam the past few weeks - Dean’s been calling Cas plenty, but they haven’t been having those marathon calls anymore. It’s been ages since he’s come across Dean with the phone tucked awkwardly between his ear and shoulder, or woken from a nap in Baby while on the road to find his brother murmuring quietly to Cas on speaker. </p>
<p>Sam quietly puts the stuff he bought from the local Wal-Mart down on the end of his bed. And moves to sit on the side of it, facing Dean’s bed where his brother is pretending to be busy packing up his stuff. He knows that if he tries to lead into this, Dean will probably dodge the conversation entirely. And if he’s being honest with himself, Sam’s not completely sure <em> he </em> won’t chicken out. With that in mind, Sam grasps his courage firmly, takes a deep breath and just dives straight in.</p>
<p>“What’s going on with you and Cas, Dean?”</p>
<p>His brother is quiet, fingers restlessly turning over each other as he stares at the bottom of Sam’s feet. He comes over and sits opposite Sam on his bed.</p>
<p>“Sammy,” Dean replies softly. He leans back a little and runs a hand tiredly across his face. </p>
<p>“Y’all aren’t talking as much as you used to.”</p>
<p>“I talk to him practically every day, dude.”</p>
<p>Sam gives him his best unimpressed look, more than a little disappointed that Dean would even attempt to distract him with that excuse. Dean winces.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay. Yea, I’ve been avoiding him some.”</p>
<p>“Some?” Sam presses again. This time Dean shoots him his own wordless look and Sam pulls up. He changes tracks. “When I got nabbed by that djinn in Chicago years back, it was...disorienting coming out of it. I had really intense dreams for days after, and I would wake up and feel out of place all over again.” Sam offers.</p>
<p>Dean nods through all of it, casting his eyes uneasily back towards the head of his bed. </p>
<p>“Yea, that’s been a bitch to deal with.” Dean readily admits. </p>
<p>“You kept asking for Cas,” Sam says. He gestures a little in a vague direction. “After I got you down, and was getting you back to the motel. You kept asking me where Cas was.”</p>
<p>There’s a bitter twist to Dean’s mouth, but finally he looks up and meets his brother’s eyes. </p>
<p>“It was...good in the dream. Me and Cas, I mean.”</p>
<p>Sam wants to point out that that’s the point of djinn dream - of course it was good. But Sam keeps quiet and lets his brother talk. </p>
<p>“We were together. Married actually,” Dean goes on softly. “And it was...it’s not like I’m unaware I <em> want </em> this stuff, Sam. I know that I’m feeling some kind of thing about Cas. The dude’s just so…” Here Dean makes an emphatic gesture of his own, and Sam feels okay filling in that gap himself. “But it was a surprise to find out that I’d gone and drawn my sort of, vague, unrealistic daydreams of a home with someone and <em> Cas </em> together in my head. That’s the part that’s got me turned around.”</p>
<p>“But why though? If you’re serious about your feelings for Cas then-”</p>
<p>Dean cuts him off there, “I like Cas. A lot. Probably too much considering everything, but Sam...it’s like…” Dean struggles a little. Sam so badly wants to help, wants to offer words, or explanations, or try to fill the silence but he holds back. He has to learn to give Dean a chance to find the words he wants.</p>
<p>“It’s like I started building something,” Dean begins finally. “I started building something, with Cas. He and I were making something together. We weren’t completely sure what it was going to be, but we were both enjoying finding out along the way. And then...I don’t know, I’ve time warped forward, done a speedrun on the project while Cas wasn’t present; and got a glimpse of the project as it could be in another year or two. Maybe. But it’s a version that’s...all me, no input from him at all.”</p>
<p>Sam listens and takes that in. He considers what the djinn in Chicago showed him when he was under and starts to see why Dean’s so out of sorts. </p>
<p>“When...I got taken by that djinn years ago, I was married to Jess. We had a house in Palo Alto and we were happy. But when I woke up, I didn’t have any issues figuring out what was real and what wasn’t, or what was just my fantasy because...well because she was gone.”</p>
<p>Dean nods. “I feel like I’ve accidentally gained a round on him. Few weeks ago? I liked him, really liked him. And again, I knew, here,” Dean taps the side of his head, “What this was building towards and Cas and I were having fun on the journey. But now? Now I feel like all I can see is this bullshit djinn dream. This dream of a white fence and a house and weekends off doing nothing, bullshit.”</p>
<p>“It’s not bullshit,” Sam points out. “Wanting a life that’s not just hunting, it’s not bullshit.”</p>
<p>Dean shrugs, “It feels like it a lot of the time.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Sam reassures him. “But I don’t want to think that it’s impossible for us to have a life someday that includes things other than hunting. I think that would break me. You can want other things for yourself, Dean.”</p>
<p>Dean lets out a dry laugh. “Sammy, <em> wanting </em> isn’t the problem. Feeling like you deserve the things is the problem.”</p>
<p>Sam gets that. He gets that on a bone-deep, soul-deep, visceral level.</p>
<p>“Yea, okay, point.” Sam agrees. The two brothers look at each other for a long moment, taking a break from saying things. </p>
<p>“Can I point out something?” Sam asks tentatively. Dean gestures forward to the space between them. </p>
<p>“Yea, dude.”</p>
<p>“The thing that you and Cas were building together, the relationship you two were building. I get that you’re feeling so uncertain since the djinn took it and maybe accelerated it in ways you weren’t expecting to have to think about this soon. That has got to be really confusing. But like...you need to talk to Cas - he’s the other half of this, no matter what it is.”</p>
<p>Sam stops, reeling in his need to keep explaining and add more context. He watches to see how Dean takes what he’s said. </p>
<p>He doesn’t look surprised, mostly a little resigned. </p>
<p>“How do I tell a dude that I like, who has been building the most bizarre sorta, kinda long distance relationship in the history of long distance relationships with me, that ‘Hey man, I married you in a dream. A thing I never let myself even day dream about. And because of supernatural bullshit, I lived it like it was real. And it forced me to realize, sooner than I had planned or expected, that you’re it for me. But now that I’m awake, this doesn’t feel even anymore, ‘cause I’m further down the road we were travelling. And I want to talk to you, I want to hear your voice, but when I do, it shreds me inside.’ How do I tell him that, Sammy?”</p>
<p>Sam’s mouth goes dry. There’s a fragile silence grown around them. Sam feels like with one wrong syllable Dean will disappear behind his favored macho mask, and he’ll never get to see his vulnerable part of his brother ever again. Sam knows intellectually that’s not true; that he’s one of the very few people Dean trusts this much. But that fear is always present, and Sam’s grateful because it means that he’ll never take that trust for granted.</p>
<p>“I...don’t know.” Sam admits. Dean slumps, his shoulders curving forward even more. “Could you just...tell him what you just said to me?”</p>
<p>Dean chuckles humorlessly, “Not sober.”</p>
<p>“Before the djinn, what did you think about when you thought about a future with Cas?” Sam asks.</p>
<p>Dean shrugs, “Little things mostly. Goin’ back to see him, taking a long weekend to just spend some time with him. Maybe seeing if he wants to try out a hunt. Introducing him to Bobby. Taking him to the Roadhouse. Stuff like that.”</p>
<p>“Those are pretty big things, for us, you know. You’re...inviting him into our world.”</p>
<p>“He’s already in it, Sam,” Dean points out.</p>
<p>“No, no, I don’t mean the supernatural stuff, Dean. I mean...Bobby, the Roadhouse, us hunting together...that’s...different. That’s more personal. I think that’s like if we were normal and you brought Cas to like your work BBQ or to a family reunion.”</p>
<p>Dean’s face clouds a little as he considers this. He then laughs to himself and grins at Sam.</p>
<p>“Can you imagine the dude in the Roadhouse?”</p>
<p>Sam grins right back. “I think he’d do just fine.”</p>
<p>“Oh for sure, he’s a nerdy looking dude, but Cas ain’t no pushover.”</p>
<p>“Ten bucks says he’s got Ellen charmed inside an hour.”</p>
<p>“No bet, man. One hundred percent, no bet. In an hour she’d be lecturing me about ‘not letting this one get away, Dean’ and ‘you better be nice to him, Dean’.”</p>
<p>Sam laughs this time, because it’s true. Cas’ somewhat reserved, but utterly sincere manner would secretly delight Ellen.</p>
<p>“Can I ask you another question?”</p>
<p>“Shoot.”</p>
<p>“Have you considered that this event might have pushed Cas a little further along on y’all’s road to? The man was going crazy trying to help me find you, you know. He didn’t sleep, I had to remind him to eat. Are you sure you’re not holding back because you’re still holding on to that ‘deserve’ part of our baggage?”</p>
<p>Dean pales, and looks away. </p>
<p>“Ah,” Sam says before he can stop himself. “That’s…”</p>
<p>“Yea,” Dean replies, still not looking at him. </p>
<p>“Dean,” There was so much in his voice, Sam wasn’t sure he himself could parse it all. Luckily Dean doesn’t seem to have that issue.</p>
<p>“Don’t <em> ‘Dean’ </em>, me, Sammy.” Dean retorts. </p>
<p>The two brothers sit in silence once more. </p>
<p>Slowly, Sam reaches out and drags his duffel back over to himself. He rummages around in it until he finds what he’s looking for towards the bottom. He pulls out the thing he bought his brother a month prior at a drugstore in the middle of the night, and hands it to Dean. </p>
<p>His brother takes it, his fingers closing around the still wrapped pair of earbuds, a little microphone set into one of the wires. The cardboard and plastic packaging proudly declared that the earbuds were perfectly compatible with most current models of smartphone.</p>
<p>“You already know that there’s no way to figure this out on your own,” Sam starts. “You already know that you’re going to have to talk to him about this...or stop talking to him entirely. It’s not just going to go away. You already know all that.”</p>
<p>“I do,” Dean replies, the package creaking a little as he squeezes it.</p>
<p>“Can I tell you what I know?” Sam asks, perfectly willing to let Dean answer honestly and abide by it.</p>
<p>“...Okay.”</p>
<p>“I know that you deserve to be happy.” Sam states firmly. “I <em> know </em> this, Dean.”</p>
<p>His brother snaps his head up. His green eyes fix on Sam’s hazel ones; something nameless and despairing in his face. But Sam presses on. </p>
<p>“I know this like I know that you’d do anything for me, anything to spare me pain. That’s how sure I am, do you understand?”</p>
<p>“...I hear you, Sam.” Dean replies. </p>
<p>“Call Cas, talk to him, please. I can’t take much more of all of <em> our </em> conversations being about <em> you </em>.”</p>
<p>That startles a laugh out of Dean, but it’s followed up by a sad look.</p>
<p>“I’ve been worrying him, huh?”</p>
<p>“Pretty much. I won’t say anything else ‘cause that’s not fair to Cas, and he’s my friend too.”</p>
<p>“You’re a good one, you know. A good friend. And a good brother.”</p>
<p>Something hitches in Sam’s chest. He knows Dean loves him, probably too much by half (though Sam can’t fault him for it, any more than he can fault himself), but it does him good to hear it out loud. </p>
<p>“You are too. And for what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good boyfriend. You just gotta give yourself a chance.”</p>
<p>Dean turns the earbuds over in his hands once more, and then finds the flap to tear it open. He wrangles the earbuds free and unwinds the twist tie. Sam gets up and dumps the stuff from his Wal-Mart bag into his duffel before zipping it up. Dean tries on the ear buds, and as Sam opens the door to head back outside he hears his brother greet Cas on the phone. </p>
<p>Sam smiles up at the summer sun and decides that the heat feels good on his upturned face.</p>
<p>
  <b>Lughnasadh - August</b>
</p>
<p>Roy attempts to flip Dean in the midst of their grapple, bending forward and heaving the shorter Dean over his shoulder from where the hunter had been trying to put Roy in a headlock. Dean rolls with the throw rather than fighting it however, and as a result lands in a crouch instead of  flat on his back like Roy was undoubtedly hoping. Without missing a beat, Dean shifts on to one foot and uses his hands to spin himself around, sweeping his free leg out and taking Roy out at the knees. The other hunter goes down hard while Dean springs to his feet and backs off, but staying ready to see how Roy will respond.</p>
<p>The other spectators are cheering, hooting at Roy and Dean both. The teasing and shouts are all good-natured, and Sam finds himself gleefully collecting a small bet from Walt who’s also laughing while handing the money over.</p>
<p>“Should have known better, betting against your brother.”</p>
<p>“You absolutely should have,” Sam replies. </p>
<p>Roy taps out of the match, waving the disappointed shouters off as he scoops up his hat from the edge of the crude ring the spectators have formed. He gets several claps on the shoulders from his other friends. Dean stands in the circle, arms out in welcome challenge. A burly looking dude that Sam had only met today, Jesse, who had come out to the Roadhouse with his husband, steps into the ring. The other guy is shorter than Dean, bald with a short beard, but he’s got the air of a guy who’s patient. Sam doesn’t think Dean’s going to have an easy go with this one. </p>
<p>Jo is already gleefully taking bets nearby, the bar’s tip jar re-purposed as the cash hold, while she frantically scribbles down the details on her orders pad. It’s a blistering late August afternoon in Nebraska, but the hunters don’t seem to mind much as they gather out back of the Roadhouse to watch a little friendly sparring between their fellows. Ellen is yelling at them all from behind the bar to shut the damn door they’re letting all the A/C out, but there’s a few people who are gathered in the doorway enjoying both the spectacle and the cooler air.</p>
<p>Dean sizes up Jesse, and after a moment’s deliberation strips off his flannel. Sam is surprised, Dean stripping down like that means he’s actively trying to better his chances at the fight, which wasn’t something he hadn’t done while sparring with Roy, or Walt, or even Tamara. The maybe two dozen or so hunters around them seem to pick up on this too, because an anticipatory hush falls over them as they watch Jesse and Dean start to circle each other.</p>
<p>Charlie bumps Sam’s elbow and hands him a cold beer. He shifts over so she can step her shorter form in front of him to get a better view. </p>
<p>“Oooh, this is gonna be good!” Charlie whispers. Next to him, Cesar, Jesse’s husband, laughs.</p>
<p>“Maybe for you, but I’m the one gonna have to soothe Jesse’s ego if he loses.”</p>
<p>“I heard that!” Jesse snaps with a grin, not taking his eyes off Dean.</p>
<p>“You were meant to!” Cesar shouts back, good naturedly. “Now kick the twink’s ass!”</p>
<p>“I haven’t been a twink since I was twenty!” Dean argues. </p>
<p>Jesse laughs in the other man’s face at that assertion, “Boy, you think you ain’t still a bit of a-”</p>
<p>That small pause in concentration is exactly what Dean was going for because the second that Jesse stops being laser focused on the fight, Dean charges him. The crowd cheers as the two grapple, Dean using the tiniest of edges gained in that moment to push the bigger man off balance and force him back a few steps. Jesse recenters quickly though, and in the next second they’re both locked in a furious grapple, each trying to twist the other to the ground.</p>
<p>Jesse counters first, getting a firm grip of Dean’s belt and masterfully pulling himself free of Dean’s grip just enough to bodily shove Dean to the side. Dean again goes with the momentum, letting himself be manhandled in one direction, while pivoting on his booted feet with a grace that Sam finds himself a little envious of. Dean’s still got one hand on Jesse’s long sleeve, he twists at just the right moment, swinging himself around Jesse so he can then pin the other man’s arm to his back. Jesse goes to lurch forward out of the pin, but Dean seamlessly hooks one of his feet in between Jesse’s and tries to trip him.</p>
<p>Jesse falls, but tucks into a roll, pulls free of Dean’s grip, tumbles and springs up. He whirls and the two men go back to circling each other carefully. This time they barely give each other a chance to breathe, before Jesse charges forward. Dean uses his slightly greater reach to take a swipe at the oncoming man before slipping to the side.</p>
<p>“It’s like our very own fight club,” Charlie jokes. Sam shrugs and doesn’t argue, he doesn’t usually participate in things like this; but he gets the draw for Dean. Sometimes you just wanna have a fight without the life or death stakes. Sometimes you just want to have fun with your friends, maybe learn something new, laugh. </p>
<p>Dean and Sam had pulled up to the Roadhouse that morning just looking to break their long drive back to Sioux Falls. Jo convinced them to stay for a bit, maybe crash there for the night. As the afternoon wore on, a few more hunters wandered in, equally covered in road dust, looking for a bit of respite. It was something of a surprise really, the Roadhouse wasn’t usually this busy. But sure enough, as the sun started to sink towards the horizon, more and more hunters joined in, called up by their fellows and friends to let them know that if they were close, the Roadhouse was the spot to be tonight.</p>
<p>Tasha Banes and her kids were watching from the far edge, she seemed to be explaining a few of the grapples and escapes Jesse and Dean were using. Garth is cheering Dean on, while Richie cheers on Jesse. Tara is one of the last to place a bet, quietly speaking to Jo and handing her a wad of fives. There’s a few faces Sam’s never seen before, but each one also is known by someone he does so Sam doesn’t worry about it much. Still, it’s a good group, no one appears to be taking the fight seriously, and everyone’s just buzzed enough to enjoy the spectacle. </p>
<p>A shout goes up, wrenching Sam’s attention back to the fight. Jesse’s got Dean down on one knee and has nearly got him successfully pinned. Dean manages to shove himself back though. He’d dislocate something if Jesse didn’t let him go, clearly not wanting to seriously injure Dean in a sparring match. His brother lands on his ass. Jesse tries to reset fast enough to move with him, keeping one hand fisted in his t-shirt, but Dean’s faster. He scrabbles back out of reach. Jesse ends up yanking Dean’s t-shirt off, which Dean lets him do so he can jump to his feet, free and clear. Jesse laughs and tosses Dean’s shirt at him. He catches it easily; and he’s laughing too.</p>
<p>“Ugh,” Charlie says, “If I was straight I’d be drooling. Your brother is stupid pretty, Samuel.” </p>
<p>“I’m not straight, and you are absolutely right about that,” Cesar agrees.</p>
<p>An idea occurs to Sam. </p>
<p>He fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands his beer to Charlie. He opens his camera app, and trains it on his brother. Objectively speaking, he ends up taking a pretty good picture. Dean’s maybe three quarters facing towards them, lit up by the setting sun, laughing, with his hair a mess and half covered in streaks of dust and dirt.</p>
<p>Sam sends the picture to Cas. Charlie, who’s watching what he’s doing on his phone, starts cackling delightedly. </p>
<p>“You’re a <em> terrible </em> friend,” she accuses.</p>
<p>“I’m an <em> awesome </em> friend,” Sam corrects.</p>
<p>“Who are you sending that too?” Cesar asks.</p>
<p>“Dean’s sort of boyfriend, and one of my best friends.” Sam answers.</p>
<p>Cesar nods sagely at him. “You’re right, you’re a good friend.”</p>
<p>Sam’s phone chimes with a text message alert. All three of them crowd around to see Cas’ answer.</p>
<p>Cas (17:37): I am at WORK, Samuel.</p>
<p>Charlie starts howling with laughter, and Cesar joins her, while Sam gleefully types back.</p>
<p>Sam (17:37): You’re welcome! :D</p>
<p>Jesse shouts in triumph and they all look up just in time to see Dean get judo thrown down flat on his back. Dean lets out an audible ‘oof’ and stays on the ground, a little stunned. The crowd cheers and Dean huffs out a laugh himself, accepting Jesse’s hand to help pull himself up. They both play it up for the cheering hunters before shaking hands. </p>
<p>Money is passed out from Jo’s tip jar, and since it’s growing dark, they all start to drift back inside, seeking out food and more drinks. Dean saddles up to their little group, tugging his shirt back on and collecting his flannel from Garth who’d helpfully picked it up earlier. </p>
<p>“Your boy is fucking wily,” Dean announces to Cesar, stealing Sam’s beer without a so much as a by your leave. He drains more than half of it in a few gulps. Jesse tucks himself up under Cesar’s welcoming arm.</p>
<p>“He is,” Cesar agrees, placing a smacking kiss on his husband's sweaty temple. </p>
<p>“I’m wily?” Jesse argues, “You were fucking impossible to pin.”</p>
<p>“Can’t hold me down,” Dean agrees with a wink.</p>
<p>“I’ll bet Cas would like to give it the old college try right now.” Charlie snarks, smiling. Dean looks confused. “Sam sent him a picture.” She goes on to explain.</p>
<p>“You little shit,” Dean accuses Sam, putting a dramatic hand over his heart. “Cas is gonna lecture me about not thrill seeking using violence again, Sam. How could you do this to me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s on his mind right now,” Cesar teases. He tugs his husband back into the Roadhouse while declaring he was getting his conquering hero a drink.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Dean’s phone, which Charlie had been holding for him during the fights, starts ringing, Cas’ name lighting up the screen. Dean cuts him a glare but Sam just smiles innocently, and steals his beer back from his brother’s unresisting grip. He and Charlie both pull away and head inside too. Sam casts a glance over his shoulder, just before stepping out of sight. He sees that whatever Cas had said to Dean in greeting over the phone, a new flush has taken over his brother’s face. Dean looks more than a little love struck. He looks happy.</p>
<p>“Sam! Shut the door will ya! I ain’t paying to fucking cool the outside!” Ellen yells. </p>
<p>Sam kicks the door shut behind him.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies again for taking so long on this one! I hope you all found it worth the wait. I love Sam, but writing from his point of view is a challenge for me at times. And I really wanted to hit the right tone with this one. </p>
<p>If you all enjoyed this and feel the need to express said enjoyment, please considering leaving a like or comment! Thank you all for the love and support on this series. </p>
<p>Y'all stay safe out there. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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